“He has a best? Been nice if they’d inherited it.” Rabbit took the book, flipping it open as eagerly as he had the first time Irial had given him images of the more reclusive fey. The symbols and crude sketches were the start of what would be tattoos tying mortals to the Dark Court. Rabbit would re-create them in ways that faeries could not, capturing the flaws and beauties until they were pulsing on the page, seeking the mortal who could wear them. It was a disquieting skill—one neither of them spoke of.

Then Ani and Tish flew into the room, squealing in that eternally hyper way they had. “Iri!”

“How’s Dad?”

“Did he send anything? He was here.”

“He met Leslie.”

“Rabbit won’t let me go to the square anymore.”

“Have you seen the new queens? We know the one, the Summer Queen.”

“We don’t know her. We met her. It’s different.”

“Isn’t.”

“Let Irial talk.” Rabbit sighed. He might scowl a bit, but he watched the girls with a care their father wouldn’t have. Halflings were typically too fragile to live in the Dark Court, too mortal, but the High Court would’ve broken their spirits—impeded their natural passions with unnatural restraints. Sorcha’s court took the Sighted ones and all of the halflings—unbeknownst to the Winter and Summer Courts—but the Dark Court tried to keep their mortal offspring out of that rigid realm. Rabbit had repaid that secrecy by looking after the other halflings Irial’d found.

“There’s trinkets from the Hounds.” Irial held out the bag. “And one of Jenny’s kin sent those garments you wanted.”

The girls snatched the bag and scu

rried away.

“Exhausting beasts.” Rabbit rubbed a hand over his face, then called out, “No clubs tonight, you hear me?”

“Promise,” Tish yelled from somewhere in the back.

Ani ran back in. Grinning madly, she skidded to a stop a hairsbreadth away from Irial. “Did you like Leslie? I bet you did. Very hot.” Her words all tumbled together. Then she stuck her tongue out at Rabbit. “We’ll get to go tomorrow, then. Promise?”

As Rabbit put a hand over his eyes, Irial found himself offering, “I’ll take them.”

Rabbit made a shooing motion at Ani. Then he flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED. “Now, let’s give this a try.”

The room was exactly as it had always been, immaculate and unchanging. Rabbit had aged some, not as fast as mortals, but he looked closer to early twenties than teens now.

Rabbit motioned to the black chair where his clients sat. “You okay?”

Irial squeezed Rabbit’s forearm and admitted, “Tired.”

After he handed Rabbit the cords Gabriel had sent, Irial sat down in the chair and stretched his legs out in front of him.

“I heard about Guin.” Rabbit pulled out three needles and as many vials.

“Gabriel’s got the Hounds patrolling; they think they’re immune still. The leannan-sidhe are to stay out of sight.” Irial leaned back in the tattoo chair and closed his eyes while Rabbit bound him with the cords. Irial always found himself talking freely with Rabbit. In a world of careful deceit, there were so few people Irial could trust without reservation. Rabbit had inherited all of his father’s loyalty, but also the mortal sense to think things through, to talk rather than fight.

“I think the ink exchange will help.” Rabbit rolled up Irial’s sleeve. “It’s going to hurt.”

“Hurt me or the girl?” Irial opened his eyes briefly. “I saw her, the mortal.”

“You. Leslie will just feel the tattoo. I think. She did well with the outline. The court’s tears and blood are an easier adjustment for a mortal. Her emotions will be volatile, fleeting by now. She’s coping, though. Your blood will be harder for her….” His words drifted off. He picked up the brown glass bottle that held the strange ink he’d mixed for the exchanges. “I’m not sure how she’ll do, since it’s you. She’s good people.”

“I’ll look after her,” Irial promised. She’d be bound to him, but he’d make sure she was well cared for, satisfied. He could do that.

Rabbit tied another cord around Irial’s arm to help raise a vein. Unlike the cords that bound him to the chair, this was a simple thing—a length of rubber like those in mortal hospitals.

“It’ll be fine.” Irial tested his bonds, then nodded to Rabbit. There were few creatures he’d trust to hold him immobile.

Tags: Melissa Marr Wicked Lovely Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net